Tamers: Reloaded
by OnixMoon
Summary: One year... One year since they lost their friends. One year to put their lives back together. But fate has a different plan for the Tamers. Join our friends as they reunite with the digimon, find new friends, and embark on new adventures.
1. Link 1: Reflection

"Digimon were, are," The director of operations of Hypnos corrected himself, "digital life forms that evolved on the digital networks of our world, . Originally created by a team of college programmers, Digimon started out being nothing more that artificial intelligence programs. However the Monster Makers funding was cut and the program was shut down. All their work was supposed to be scrubbed from every computer. However one of the programmers wouldn't let it die. So just as they were forced to pull the plug he set them free. Shubumi created a subprogram that would allow a Digimon to evolve beyond their original programming. They could rewrite their own programming to live in any computer."

"Click"

His superiors had seen it fit to recruit a new hand for day to day operations. Their choice had been a fairly young whiz-kid named Taki Asaji. He had had several jobs with many different sections of several different governments. His record appeared clean, minus a few authority disputes. He had high recommendations from all of his former employers. The usual complaint was that he worked too hard, something that at Hypnos was never a problem. The rest of his history was pretty blank. The boy had been part of several different secret operations put on by which ever government he worked for. The boy had a sense of humor which would probably not serve him well here. Thankfully the boy had managed to stay quiet, only asking for coffee every half hour or so of the extensive briefing.

Yamaki continue, "However Digimon wormed their way into everything, including the crackpot programs of a few people trying to create virtual worlds. The digital created by the first Digimon using the internet as a matrix for these insane programs. New species that could build upon the matrix of the web evolved alongside another type of new digital entities, the digignomes. Because of the new sub-matrix and the rapidly expanding internet Digimon could sustain themselves without a host computer. As the internet has grown so too has that original sub-matrix, now named the Digital Plane."

"Click"

"From that Digital Plane evolved several more complex layers that the Digimon inhabited. Eventually the Digimon abandoned the Digital Plane almost entirely. Mr. Asaji the digital world itself is part of the Digimon." Yamaki finished and turned to face the newest employee of Hypnos. Already hardened by other government programming jobs he had lost the shimmer and shine. Messy brown hair and rumpled cloths spoke louder than his resume concerning his work ethic. Hopefully he would survive Hypnos as well. The organization often ran programmers out of their minds. Asaji looked promising, as long as he didn't get in Yamaki's way.

"Click"

"Great, so eventually these Digimon find a way through and along with them comes the Monster Makers fail safe who apparently has some vendetta against humanity." The kid had at least managed to stay awake through the briefings. This was probably attributed more to the several gallons of coffee he had consumed rather that his personal diligence. Yamaki nodded and glanced out the window of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Tower. Tokyo still lay mostly in shambles outside. The world was still rebuilding itself from the near doomsday.

"Click"

"Correct, to a point. The D-reaper was meant to force stop evolution in the creatures beyond a curtain point. However in the real world anything that couldn't adapt fast enough to respond to its threats was ingested. First inanimate objects, eventually plants and animals, and if we had stepped in to it, humans too would have been absorbed. I am still standing here and talking to you so, you probably are guessing that we found a way to beat it."

"Click"

"You mean those kids found a way to beat it," Taki said. Yamaki scowled, he hated being interrupted, but even more he hated a smart mouth. Perhaps he had been wrong, Yamaki though, this kid might not make it through the week.

"Click"

Yamaki pretended to ignore to comment and began to recap Hypnos's more resent exploits, "After the defeat of the D-reaper Hypnos has been building up defenses to keep the Digimon were they belong. The Digital Wall has been primarily successful, and all breaches have been dealt with. You should consider yourself lucky for getting in here; you're the first new programmer Hypnos has hired since the incident. Your job will be to monitor the collection of Firewalls that keep us separated from the Digital World and anything else I can think of. Understand?"

"Click"

"Yes sir." And with that Yamaki dismissed the boy. Turning back to the window he saw Tokyo. The people out there had been through a lot. Ravaged by giant digital creatures from another world, nearly demolished by a giant pig, and worst of all, deleted by a giant red blob. The least he could do was keep his them from having to suffer through something like this.

Yamaki turned and left the conference room. His lone footsteps echoed off the empty halls. The world hadn't changed much, or at least on in the ways the director of Hypnos had expected. There was no push to study or eliminate the Digimon, politicians were squabbling over how control of the Digital World should be doled out. There were no entrepreneurs trying to screw up the system and offer vacations to the digital world. There was only a trickle of funding running in for anti-Digimon weapons. The world, it seemed, would like nothing more than to forget the D-reaper had ever come up out of the earth.

"Click"

Of course there were things that were to be expected, crackpots trying to write books about Digimon, huge numbers of people trying to cope with PTSD, and the wakos who thought that if they just stop using computers the Digimon would never come back. The communications of the world were still in shambles, residual radiation from the quantum bubble messing with radio and television frequencies. Hundreds of damaged satellites still hung in space. Though the world pretended it was too busy fixing itself to admit it, they lived in constant fear and curiosity of the digital world.

"Click"

Well the Digimon would never come back, but not because a bunch of people in the USA had burned their computers. Not because psychiatry was the most profitable occupation. Not because of the politicians promises. No, the reason no Digimon would never set foot on earth again was because of him, Hypnos, and the Digital Wall.

"Click"

Yamaki felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of Digimon never returning. The kid's Digimon were locked in with all the others. He hadn't gotten close to the Digimon, but he had met them, even been forced to spend several weeks in a temporary base of operations with them. He had studied them, observed them, and he had tried to figure them out. Yet somehow out of all that study the thing that came across most was the love they had for those kids. Even to the point of giving themselves up for their human partners.

"Click"

But it was a necessary sacrifice. They could have waited for a couple days to figure out a solution that would save the children's Digimon, but if they had done that, whatever it was that had come through during the battle would have joined with the D-reaper. No one knew, or cared to guess what would have happened if that had happened.

"Click"

Now a year later, no Digimon had set foot on Japan. Due to the slow paced scrabbling amongst politicians Digimon had appeared elsewhere around the globe, but Japan, once the digital hotspot of the world was clean. It was Hypnos that had led the rest of the world in the year after the D-reaper. It was Hypnos that had begun the lock down of Digimon in the year 1 ADR. Militaries around the world had used this event to start their own calendar, ADR, After D-Reaper. Yamaki smiled at the name the media had given it, New Common Era.

"Click"

He was leading the world in a new era. The world had yet to recover from the massive, world swallowing red blob, communication networks were only at a fraction of what they had been just over a year ago, the environment had been altered by the quantum bubble, some people were still hiding under their bed in fear of the Digimon. Yet they were entering a New Common Era, one where what little that had gleaned from Digimon was being processed and used. Hopefully they could avoid any disastrous mistakes this time around.

"Click"

"Hiss"

The door open, admitting Yamaki into the dark monitoring room of Hypnos. Climbing the stairs Yamaki emerged into the giant domed room, Riley and Tally sat in their chairs held above the floor. They were tapping away at the near incomprehensible keyboards. The techno-babble had of the years had now subsided into gossip and small talk, the automated systems running most of it. Small talk and gossip could often be heard from them, summaries of what little personal life they could afford. It was in this room that Yamaki felt most comfortable, here where he could see what was coming and do everything to stop it. He had seen this place flash so many times in his dreams. The dome was the closest thing Yamaki could really call home.

"Click"

"Hiss"

"Click"

The door had opened down below. A Janyu walked up the stairs and stood next to Yamaki. As unofficial head of the monster makers he and Yamaki had clashed several times, but things had smoothed out after a time. Janyu was kind and hopeful, his son was one of the children fate had chosen. A blip on the dome appeared and Tally announced its presence, "Wild-one, sir"

"Send it back"

The operator's fingers began to pick up the pace. Tally mumbled what she was doing to herself, while Riley worked in complete silence. These two people were in perfect sink and the only ones aside from Yamaki himself that understood the Hypnos Systems. The million dollar programs ran around their mind almost subconsciously as they returned the Digimon back to its plane of existence. From his vantage point Yamaki could see the new boy already hard at world, doing something; studying the programs, building new ones, it didn't matter as long as the Digital Wall remained intact this world would be safe.

"Click"

From above one of the operators announced the successful rejection of the Wild One, one of the new features Hypnos boasted. Sanity would last for another day. They wouldn't have to fall back on last ditch efforts or minute by minute fixes so the world would continue to operate. The world would operate unaware of Hypnos and its efforts. Exactly the way it should be.

"Click"

Digimon were gone for good.

"Click"

They would never return.

"Click"

"_I promise,"_ Those words rang in Yamani's ears. Every time he thought about the future of his world he heard them echoing through time. Why did they haunt him? Why had they been said with so much feeling? Why were those words, spoken by a 13 year old to his goofy little dinosaur, so… True? Yet they did haunt him, they had been said. The scariest thing of all was that even against all odds they could. The digital world was one part data, one part dreams. It housed creatures that could grant wishes. The Digimon were made of data and dreams, a wish your heart makes. Yakami stamped these thoughts out of his mind.

Digimon would never return, he would make sure of it. If he could get the Tamer's Digimon back, fine. But never again would his world be threatened by the likes of Digimon, or D-reaper, or whatever sick and twisted thing that fate could come up with. He would do anything to keep his world from turning to ash. Yamaki had vowed long ago to save this world from the Digimon, save His world.

"Click"

"_I promise"_

"Click"

Yamaki sighed in defeat as the paranoia won, "Asaji, I've got a job for you."

"Ready, boss."

"Start working on a way to reinforce the Digital Wall."

"On it." The kid didn't even mentioned that he knew nothing about the Hypnos system, the Digital Wall, or the science of Bioemerging. Well, at least Yamaki had every asset he could think of to keep the Digimon in their own world.

"Click"

"Sir, nothing's even made it to the wall yet, the rejection program is working perfectly."

"Riley, if I've learned one thing about these Digimon: expect everything."

"Click"

Yamaki would not let this would fall apart again, even if it meant separating the tamers. He had assured himself this time after time. Yet something kept telling him that he wouldn't have a choice in them matter. That didn't stop him from making every effort to make sure that he had a say, anyway. The fated nature of it didn't stop him from trying. He would personally sift through every one and zero of the internet if it meant he could keep his world safe.

"Click"

The Tamers had had their adventure, they had had their therapy. Heck they even had their PTSD to prove it all. They had their 15 minutes of fame, many times over. They had fought giant digital beasts from another dimension, they had the road trip of a life time, they had more adventure then a thousand little kids could dream of, why did they want more? Couldn't they just leave it?

"Click"

Why did _he_ want more? Why was he constantly trying to avoid it? Why did he put up layer and layer of separation and defense, both digital and social from him and either world? Some had expected him to come out a little bit more after the world had been saved; instead he had secluded himself even more. Yet it made no difference, it seemed. The head of Hypnos clenched his fist around the nondescript lighter. The small metallic remnant of his past shuddered and quivered. No that was his arm, no his whole body.

"Click Click"

"Want to talk about it?" Yamaki turned to stare at Janyu. The monster makers looked serious but friendly. Someone who genuinely wanted to know what the cloistered man was thinking. Yamaki shook his head, as the father of one of the Tamers Janyu probably wasn't the best person to tell this. There really wasn't anyone that he could tell these delusions of doom to.

Janyu looked off into the distance, or maybe he was looking at some data on the domed screens, "It's not your fault, Yamaki."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Henry's forgiven me… and you."

"I don't know if I disserve forgiveness." Yamaki hadn't meant to say that, he hadn't even been thinking of it, but know that he had said it he realized it was true. But still not what he was thinking.

"We'll get them back some day."

"Maybe, if our involvement matters anyway." Janyu nodded like he understood. Yamaki knew that he couldn't understand the dark heavy feeling in his stomach that nothing that they did was going to make any difference. It was just a matter of time until everything broke down. Yamaki hated waiting.

"That maybe, I guess we'll see," Janyu chuckled. How could had laugh at something like that? How could he brush something off that could mean the destruction of everything he loved? Was he really that naive to think that everything would find a way to sort itself out? Last time it had been close, too close. Next time they might not have those few hours, minutes, seconds, whatever they needed to keep humanity from being whipped out.

"Click Click Click"

Janyu glanced over at Yamaki the lighter lid moving like mad, it was obvious he wasn't going to talk about whatever it was that was on his mind. Tao waited for a second, hoping maybe whatever it was that was bugging Yamaki would get to him. Yamaki remained his cool, minus the rapid clicking of his long empty lighter. Janyu looked up at the operators as they worked away at whatever it was they did all of the time. He had meant to ask them that but had never had the chance.

From above Riley glanced away from the figures at the sandy headed man, concern in her eyes. He had gotten worse and worse every day. The lighter might not take much more of this. She guessed it might be some PTSD that was finally manifesting itself. While everyone else in Hypnos was being treated Yamaki had been working on the digital wall. The test showed that everyone practically in Hypnos, or who had any involvement with Digimon was suffering from some degree of trauma. Their stubborn leader just refused to allow himself to admit that he had been effected by the D-reaper, he had taken the weight of the world onto his shoulders.

She sighed and turned back to what she had done before the Digimon had started to pop up, reading the internet for any kind of terrorist code word or threat or… it was really incredibly boring work. Yet this is what she had been hired to do in the first place, in truth she missed the excitement the Digimon had brought with them.

Takato lay staring up in to the vast darkness above him. His hand lay at his side clasping a pencil. The pencil scratched against a small pad of paper. Lines and abstract figures worked their way on to the paper as the pencil moved across it. Takato glanced down at the pad just to make sure that the drawing wasn't just a random collection of lines. Instead on the pad was a wing, a wing attached to nothing yet, but still a beautiful wing.

Stopping the pencil Takato tried again to close his eyes. Giant red sickles raced toward his friends. The whole world was filled with this terrible high pitched scream, echoed by an omnipresent low rumble. The D-reaper was going to kill them. The boy flicked open his eyes and again he was in his room laying on his bed staring up into the darkness. These visions of the battles flashed before him every time he closed his eyes. It was like a continuous movie was playing these horrible memories over and over and over. It was PTSD, or at least that's what the doctors had called it. To him it was just this continuous waking nightmare.

The flashbacks couldn't compare to the dreams that gripped the tamers when they fell asleep. Cold terrible dreams of their battles or of things that didn't happen but almost did. The worst dreams were the ones where he was floating in a dark red chasm and he couldn't breathe, ther world crushing him. Failure. That's what the worst dreams were of. What would have happened if they had spent another hour, minuet, second in the D-reaper were summoned up in their sleep. What if Vikaralamon wasn't defeated? What if, What if, What it? Those were the worst.

The wing had turned oddly sinister. The fluffy curves were covered by harsh jagged edges and the feathers had begun to look more like heavy scales.

Takato blinked and in that fraction of a second he saw a face that haunted the other nightmares, the ones that weren't about the D-reaper. Megidramon. Around the dark room papers were scattered everywhere. Some of Takato's drawings were tapped onto the walls, some only held up by a few measly tabs of tape. Some were piled in heaps; a few of these small mountains had given way and slid onto the now mostly invisible floor. The drawings raged in size and subject from small doodles to massive sheets of paper covered with people, animals, and Digimon.

The drawings had first started to pile up in mass a few weeks after he had returned to the bakery. The doctors had suggested that he find something to express himself. Apparently keeping everything bottled up behind a smile wasn't very healthy. The drawings that had spilled out of his pencils had ranged from terrible monsters to beautiful angles. '_Speaking of pencils I should probably get some more_' Takato thought as he looked at the rapidly shortening pencil. He loved to draw, each picture seemed like it came a live underneath his carful guidance. He would love little more than to draw for the rest of his life.

A lot had happened in the past year, well not a lot compared to the adventures of the previous year, but still a lot. Tokyo had nearly been wiped off the face of the earth. Shinjuku had the worst of it. Almost the entire city had been deleted or pulled into the digital world when the D-reaper had been sucked back in. The noise and jumble of a thousand people going to their office buildings had been replaced by the tedium of construction work. The constant hammering and pounding and scrapping filled the streets as new high rises grew taller and taller. The oddest thing of them all was that though Tocho was practically the center of the quantum bubble, they remained mostly intact. They had been molded and shaped by the D-reaper and left behind when it was defeated as a monument to what had almost happened.

The first thing their parents had decided was they needed therapy, all of them. Hypnos paid for it all so for six months every Tuesday and Thursday Takato had walked into the tent office of Doctor Hida. Tuesday's for a long chat with the man, Thursday's for a meeting of the Tamers. Therapy hadn't been all bad, he begun to draw thanks to them, but Therapy hadn't been all good either. Jeri was left scared by the D-reaper; sometimes it, or Leomon, was mentioned she'd lose it. He loved her, but it was just so hard to see her go through all that pain. She got to the point where she would have full blown seizures when even mildly sensitive topics were bought up. She had begun to show signs of improvement lately. That news had made Takato so happy, Jeri was definitely having a hard time of it. Some of the doctors thought that maybe the D-reaper had left some kind of brain damage on Jeri so they ran test.

It had, whole parts of her brain had just gone missing. It was terrible, what wasn't gone was severity damaged. Yet somehow she was mostly a normal girl in the world. With that discovery all the Tamers had been subject to every kind of medical test imaginable. They were freaks, all of them. The four that had fought inside the D-reapers were the worst, aside from Jeri. Somehow becoming data had messed them up. They weren't even sure if they could be classified as human anymore. Huge sections of DNA were just missing, yet whatever function they coded for still worked. No one knew why they were missing parts, but at least were still alive. A few of the Hypnos sciences had said they looked more like Digimon on the inside than human.

After the shock of being so messed up on the inside their entire humanity was being called into question life had settled down. Schools had started up again, people began returning in mass. Heck within a month the trains had been working again. Japan was nothing if not efficient. So life continued on almost as it did before the whole crazy adventure. School, therapy, Digimon cards, bakery, PTSD, friends, nightmares, rebuilding their lives hadn't been easy but eventually they had reached something that could be called normality.

Some people had taken it harder than others, Rika seemed more open than when he had met her. Sure life wasn't all doom and gloom there were some quirky developments too: the bakery had started a whole new line of Digimon Commemorative Breads. The Tamers were being pelted with interview request from every source imaginable. Basically they were everywhere had every opportunity to be everywhere else too. Hypnos had helped with keeping the wakjobs away. Most of the people that sent letters requesting interviews received a letter from the government organization that said, "Though the Tamers remain a privet entity, their affiliation with matters best kept out of public eye means the government will not allow interviews at this time". So eventually the letters died down and they were left alone.

Sleep began to consume Takato at last. The pencil slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. Soon Takato was asleep, the nightmares were held at bay for a while so his sleep was calm and quiet. From within one of draws of his desk shown a light, a dim white shine seeping around the edges. It was noticed by no one in the darkened room. As the night grew late the glow dimed and eventually went out. In his sleep Takato felt the evil dreams abate and new dreams claimed him, new dreams of adventure and happiness.


	2. Link 2: Retest

"Class I am sorry to say but last week's test was thrown out due to suspected cheating. While I hope none of you are responsible, though I think I know otherwise. However, due to today's prescheduled Academic Aptitude Test, the retake will have to wait for another day."

"Hey, that's not fair you don't have any proof."

Mrs. Asaji sighed, school was school was school and they had cut her aspirin. Apparently it was possible to overdose on aspirin, meaning she was stuck with this headache. They, she hopped, had been left with an eternal plague upon their family. Sure curing the doctors that had probably saved her from some terrible overdose was old fashioned, but it helped a little. She began to hand out the papers, "As you all know the academic aptitude tests decide where or if you will be attending High School in the coming years. I hope you all take this seriously. That means you, Kazu."

"Hey come on, I actually studied for this one!"

She passed out the papers to all the students and spoke from the back of the room, "You may begin."

Mrs. Asaji looked around at the class. Some students had yet to return to Tokyo so attendance was patchy. Hard to believe that a year ago four of her students had visited another world, then come back and fought off an Armageddon. Kazu, the loud boisterous kid that never seemed to shut up was still in his seat, and providing her with a seemingly never ending headache. He was as loud and unruly as ever, and the one she secretly suspected was caught cheating. Kenta the quiet little kid was still here too, more than likely he had been the one that Kazu had gotten his answer from. He was a bright kid, and caring, he never seemed to be able to hate anyone. Takato the dreamer, was still that a dreamer.

Takato was still late to school, still forgetful, still Takato. That was more than could be said about the once cheerful Jeri. She seemed to be getting better, or at least masking the pain. Jeri had been one of her favorite students, respectful, kind, mostly out going. Now she seemed cold and distant most of the time, some of her old friends had left her. She didn't pay attention enough to understand why the girls had left Jeri, maybe it had something to do with the thing that destroyed their homes had taken over and used the girl. Mrs. Asaji couldn't guess if it was because they blamed her, or feared that maybe she still was part of that thing. That meant Jeri hung out with the tamers most of the time. While the Tamers were great kids, it was probably hard for her to be around them.

Now with the pressure of test and the weight of the future on their shoulders it probably hadn't gotten much better for the Tamers. Not that something like where they would go to school was anything like the fate of the world. Still, it was stressful. Always this time of year she there was at least one suicide, she really hope it wasn't one of the Tamers. She wasn't supposed to have favorites in her class but she couldn't help if she found the people who had saved the world particularly charismatic. Or maybe it was the fact that due to her Japanese up bringing she now considered herself to be in debt them.

She sat in the front of the room and waited for each child to finish. Tick tock tick tock, the old analog clock sang in the background. _That is going to give me a headache._

______________  
_

Takato sat staring up into the sky. Puffy white clouds moved across it in a slow steady fashion. So peaceful, so calm, so other worldly to Takato. Things weren't going so great for the boy, or rather they were going really really great, just not how he wanted them to be, except he did want this to happen. Things were really confusing for him. No Digimon, no threats to the world, just him and his own stupid problems. This was partly why he had enjoyed his time as a hero, he never had to worry about his own problems, other people's were so much easier to solve.

The boy was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the door to the roof open and shut. Nor did he hear the calls from the blue haired boy walking toward him. He did vaguely wonder why he knew people with strange hair colors, but that was pushed out of his mind by his other thoughts. The boy got closer and called Takato again. Takato had his head to far into the clouds to hear his reality biased friend. Finally Takato's vision of the clouds was obscured by Henry, "Takato come back to earth."

"Huh? Oh, hey Henry. How's it going?" Takato pushed himself up. The roof was empty minus Henry, thankfully.

"Fine. Are you alright?"

"Ya, Fine" Takato said, too quickly for him to really mean it. Henry knew he was lying. Takato cursed himself for being such a terrible liar. Henry, taking his own methodical pace, sat down next to Takato. He looked like was about to say something but was still thinking about it. He was thinking and thinking, Henry never stopped thinking, sort of like how Takato never stopped dreaming. The minuets wore on and finally Takato had to shift his wait. From his pocket slipped two slightly crumpled envelopes. Henry raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

"Uh, they're nothing." Takato mumbled as he shoved the envelops back into his pocket. They didn't quite fit and stuck out awkwardly. Henry smiled as idea came to mind. Henry loved ideas, especially ones that would work.

"Right? Anyway, how it going?" A trick question Takato thought. That was almost always a trick question. Sometimes the purpose of something like that was to start in on small talk about something neither of them really cared about. Other times, like right now Takato suspected, it was meant to gain some piece of information that Henry could use.

"Um, not to bad. Let's see the bakery is fine. Everyone is safe, the world hasn't been overrun by raiding Digimon-"

"Takato, you're babbling" It was easy to tell when Takato was trying to hide something. The trademark Takato Babble was a surefire sign that Takato had something on his mind. Henry, being Takato's best friend, was one of the best people at spotting the signs.

"Am I?" Takato pointed to himself awkwardly and, he hoped, innocently. Henry looked at the dreamer and frowned. Takato held a lot inside of him, he just wasn't very good at hiding what he was thinking. The kid was funny that way, normally happy and caring Henry had seen a darker side to Takato. That side seemed to make Takato more real, it showed that he wasn't just a bumbling gogglehead. But, right now however he was still being the bumbling gogglehead.

"Takato what's wrong?" The dreamer sighed and pulled out the envelops again. He was about to say something until the words caught in his throat. Henry would keep a secret, and Takato knew he would tell eventually Henry, but… What? Why didn't he tell him right now? Takato swallowed those fears and started.

"It's just…"

"It's just what, Takato?" Takato grasped at were to begin. Several lines jumped into his mind but they were quickly rejected. Takato finally decided to do this like he did everything in the end: wing it.

"You know how I like to draw?"

"Yeah" Henry waited for Takato to get to the point but didn't press it. Obviously this was bugging his so it was probably best not to push it.

"Well I took that Art Aptitude Test and…" Takato trailed off fearfully. Takato it seemed hadn't even admitted to himself that whatever it was had happened. At first Henry thought that Takato could of bombed the test, but upon further thought Henry realized Takato was the kind of person that would just shrug it off. So what could be bugging him? After several minutes of Takato not talking Henry prompted him, "And?"

"My, parents didn't want me too."

"And you figured that you wouldn't get a high enough score to worry about?" Takato nodded. _So that's it, I wonder what score he got._

"I got a 99 out of 100," Takato mumbled, as if still trying to believe it himself. Henry was astounded; placement tests were incredibly hard to do well on, to get such a high score, "You're going to have every art school in Japan on your back, Takato."

"Don't remind me," Takato said glumly holding up the second, unopened envelop. On the envelope was the logo and address of the Hokkaido Art Institute. The institute was one of many to have a high school program built into the college and was one of the most reputable schools in the nation. Apparently the quickest to send out letters too, even Tokyo hadn't arrived yet, of course that was supposing they were still here.

"Have you told them yet?" Henry already knew the answer to the question. So when Takato shook his head it was no surprise. Takato wasn't feeling all that great; he had explicitly disobeyed his parents. True he had paid for the test himself, but his parents wanted him to work in the bakery not, as his mom called it, wallow his life away on paper and pencil. He love to draw and he had improved so much throughout the year. It felt so familiar; he had drawn Guilmon so it felt like every time he drew something it would come alive. Maybe not quite the same way, but still it felt wrong for his parents to forbid him from taking the Artistic Aptitude and Placement Exam. They were still his parents, though, so it wasn't his place to disobey.

Henry watched Takato look sadder and sadder, a flash of rare anger, but both boys staid silent. Finally as Takato's head drooped even lower Henry put his hand on the boys shoulder, "Takato, don't worry so much. It'll be fine, I sure they'll understand. I mean come on your score pretty much guaranties you any school in the country."

Takato smile, he felt better. Knowing someone else who knew what he was dealing made him feel better. Henry was good at understanding things, maybe he was right. The encouragement was genuine and real. "Yeah, thanks Henry. And I mean compared to taking on two sovereign Digimon how hard could it be?" The laugh felt good, they had been dark times but still it felt good to laugh. _Really how hard could it be?_

"Though knowing your mom you might want to buy earplugs."

"Yeah." Together they laughed. Takato felt the worries momentarily slide away. He laughed harder and harder releasing the day's built up tension.

_Good Luck Takato._ Henry thought as they parted ways at his apartment building.

___________

"Hey mom, I'm home!" Takato cried as he walked in the back door to the bakery.

"How was school?"

"Oh you know, same old same old, two plus two is four, all that good stuff."

"Uh-Huh?" Takato turned to corner and was about to head up stairs when he was stopped by duty, in this case his dad.

"Hey son, mind helping out today?"

"Uh…"

"Oh, come on, it will be fun!" He turned Takato around and pushed him toward the registrar. _Oh, great my favorite._ He didn't hate the registrar, really. Feeling a bit uncomfortable talking to a whole bunch of strangers just didn't make that the most appealing place to be in the bakery. Okay, maybe he seemed to fumble with the money a bit too. So? Everybody was klutzy a bit of the time, right? Steeling himself to not make a total fool of himself he approached the position.

The frist customer approached. He was a knight a knight in shining armor ready to… give the dragon his change? _My imagination really is a curse. _ Three creampuffs, a loaf of sweet bread, and one Guilmon bread was placed on the counter. Takato quickly checked off all the prices and punched them in. With a cling the price was displayed and the man put the money on the small tray. Takato took the money counted it out, figured out change, and placed the change on the tray. So maybe a middle school education was all this needed. He really wouldn't mind being a baker for the rest of his life, it was fun, and usually tasty.

Except for taxes, hardly enough education in the world for taxes. Still Takato couldn't exactly say that his heart was in the bakery. Sure it was home, it was where he had spent his entire life. Heck, it had been Guilmon's favorite place in the whole world. His parents had built this store from the ground up, but he still didn't feel like this was the life for him. If he stopped now there was no going back, there was no second chance. He had the opportunity to go far, if he ever made up his mind to tell his parents. Oh well, that was the life of a gogglehead.

Business was slow for the most part allowing Takato to study for next week's Test-o-Death . Or not, the small pad of paper meant for notes and special orders had been commandeered for Takato's own persposes. Namely Falloutmon, sure Takato had moved beyond crude sketches of Digimon, they were now very elegant sketches of Digimon. As his pencil slowly formed the heavy rounded torso of the Digimon another consumer approached the counter.

"Can I help you sir? Mr. Katou!" The man looked haggard and tiered, but perky. One thing that the entire Katou family had was that ability to be perky, or at the bottom of a deep depression. No middle ground, happy, or depressed beyond belief. Usually perky and perky is good, it sure beats being late to class everyday. Depression on the other had was less favorable, for Jeri especially, "Umm, how's Jeri?"

"She's better," That was all Jeri ever was anymore, better. Takato wondered if she would ever fully emerge from the trauma. Probably not, but he could still hope. It was hard to see Jeri go through this, but she had friends who were happy to help, like him. Sometimes she would forget to eat for weeks. She collapsed last time before they managed to catch it last time. "There hasn't been a seizure for a month now, so that's good. She is still eating, but…"

The man trailed off like he was wondering whether or not to tell Takato something. He heaved a sigh as he made up his mind, "Takato, in about a month we're moving to Kyoto. I don't think she can really get over it seeing all the destruction here. I don't know, it's just she hasn't made any progress for months, maybe a change in scenery will help."

"I would call eating an improvement."Takato didn't know if his was trying to be funny, or serious, or what. It just came out, like almost everything else he said. _I have really got to find a way to keep my mouth shut. _He really didn't want Jeri to leave, and she had been making progress it was just slow. She had trouble around strangers and large groups of people, but when it was just the two of them she was almost the same Jeri she had been . Katou stood there for a second, mulling over what Takato had said. Nodding he placed the money on the tray, but stayed silent. Takato made change and placed it back onto the tray. The man collected his change and waved, "Good bye, Takato."

When the sun set the crowed grew, but eventually the nighttime rushed thinned. Finally closing time came around and they were able to shut down. With all the tests Takato had to study ever moment he could focus, and he was fairly curtain that if he didn't it Mrs. Asaji would have a blunt metal object in her hand when she saw the scores. Or not, but it did sound like the think she might do now that she was forced off of aspirin. The whole class had been suffering since she had been told to cut cold turkey. As Takato finally closed his math book dinner was on the counter, and the mail was being delivered.

"Takato, letter for you!" _Crap!_

________________

Onyx: Yeah! I finally got this story going!

Kazu: Took you long enough.

Onyx: Hey, you don't get to talk, you only a minor fictional character. Have you ever done anything epic?

Kazu: Not yet, but you are going to fix that, right?

Onyx: Maybe…. Anyway, I suppose I should explain why we are here.

Kazu: I know, I mean is there a god with a plan for us and stuff or are we just the product or some cosmic coincidence.

Onyx: What? No, I mean why we are here talking to these people.

Kazu: Oh….

Onyx: This space has been resurved for witty banter between my and Kazu over there—

Kazu: Hi!

Onyx: And for me to beg for feedback. So I'll start now. Reviews, flames, proposals, love letters are all encouraged, but I want you to give serious thought before you start will the love letters. Well, see you later!

Kazu: Good Bye!


	3. Link 3: Delirious Future

_Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap! _Takato ran toward the kitchen. If it was a letter from some art institute his goose was fried, deep fried. Might as well just role in bread crumbs and make him nice and crunchy for when his parents chewed him out. _Wait, we having chicken to night. This is not helping!_

Jumping the last few steps Takato grabbed the edge of the door frame and swung into the kitchen. He spotted the pile of mail on the counter and rushed over to it. _Bills, bills, advertisement, junk, junk, junk. Man all we get is junk mail. "_Mom! Where's the letter." Takato realized he was shouting but it was too late.

"On the counter." She called from out of the room. Sure enough of the counter was a second stack of more resent mail. The mail on the table was from yesterday. Takato walked over to the pile and spotted the envelope addressed to him. The return address was covered up by the rest of the pile so he couldn't tell if it was from a university or someone else. When he yanked the letter from the stack the rest of the envelops came with it. Fell of the counter and on to the floor. Takato rushed to pick the fallen letters up and place them back on the counter.

With the rest of the mail back on the counter Takato ran back up stairs, around the corner and into his room. Takato slammed the door and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Slowly his breath returned and the tension went out of his legs. He slid down the door and came to rest on a mostly cleared part of the floor. Takato looked at the envelope. It was too small to be a letter from a school, or the scores from his tests. In fact the letter didn't even have a return address on it. On the front his name had been scrawled in elegant Romanji and the word "Airmail." The back was equally plain.

Using his finger Takato opened the envelop. The letter inside was crisp and clean. Who ever had sent the letter had been kind enough to write the letter in hiragana, even if it was poorly scripted. Then again the title of letter could hardly be bestowed upon the note. All that had been said was "Ganbatte", good luck. Takato was mystified, who in the world would send him a note with no address by Airmail and only tell him good luck? Takato looked inside the envelop to see if there was anything else. Thankfully there was: two small business card had been stuffed in the envelop too. However these only served to confuse Takato further. First of all the card had been typed in English, and he wasn't all that familiar with the language. Second was the unique symbols that had been printed next to the name and title. The one printed on the card of a Peter Shaffer was like looking down into a tunnel. The other card belonged to a Jamie X, (much easy to read) and had a single line breaking into twelve lines.

Takato couldn't read the titles that had been given to him. So he was being contacted by two people in some English speaking country. That narrowed it down to things like America, Britten, or Australian. Unless, it could have been someone speaking English somewhere else in the world. _Gaa, this makes no sense! _

"Takato supper, were having Yakatori!" Takato tossed the letter aside until later, his stomach taking precedence. Takato ate his supper quietly. Several times he almost started to tell his parents about the Art Test, but every time his hesitation stopped him. After supper he cracked open his books and began to study again. Normally sannense's took the placement exams, but this year it had been moved up. Making his life a whole lot harder. Third years had a hard time with the placement exams. Yet still tomorrow he would walk into his class and take another test. Then again, the next day was another test.

"Ahhh! I can't take this" Takato let his head fall to the table after giving up on a particularly vexing question. His mind drifted to Guilmon, he wondered how the red dinosaur was doing. Was he already alone in the digital world? Takato's pencil began to wander across the paper. Absent mindedly Takato had began to draw his companion in the margins of his textbook. He tried to force himself to focus on his books and the test that would be coming tomorrow. It was a losing battle. Finally he gave up and packed everything back in his backpack and headed upstairs.

His room was dark when he walked in, not that that couldn't be fixed, but Takato stood there for a second absorbing the darkness. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the lack or light and his room, mess and all, came into focus. However as the seconds passed it became obvious that something was a bit different. The area around his desk seemed slightly brighter that the rest of the room. Light seemed to be creeping out one of the drawer. Takato shuffled over to the desk and opened the offending drawer. Inside were all of his Digimon card that he didn't carry around with him. On top of the pile shone a single white card.

It was so surreal, just like when the blue card had appeared so long ago. Except that one didn't glow. Takato picked up the card and examined, it was white and glowing, but beyond that the magnetic strip that the card readers used was gold as was logo on the center. The logo appeared and disappeared as Takato moved the card back and forth. _ I wonder what this does? Well, only one way to find out!_

Takato removed the d-arc that hung around his neck. He wore it now not out of necessity, but as a reminder of his friends and his promise to Guilmon. He held the digivice in his left hand and aligned the card with the slot carefully. He hadn't done this in so long. Expectantly he pulled the card through the reader muttering the familiar "Digimodify."

For a long second nothing happened. Then the d-arc started to bleep and alarms started sounding. The small screen burst to life as binary code began to flash across it. The code passed faster and faster until it blurred into white. The light continued to grow brighter as Takato stood transfixed by what was happening. The light seemed to push its way away from the screen and move as a tactical. It sneaked its way up Takato's arm. The tendril of light pushed its way under the sleeve of his shirt. He felt, actually felt, the light worming its way up his sleeve. It stopped at his shoulder.

The whole experience was become just a little to strange for Takato now. He tried to let go of his d-arc, but failed. His body was held perfectly still by some unseen force. The light was beginning to burn his eyes. With a great deal of effort Takato tore his eyes away from the light. They fell upon the card. No longer was it a brilliant shimmering white, it was now something much more sinister. The card had become marbled red and black. The two colors merged together to form some kind of highly ineffective camouflage. The small Digimon logo too had been replaced by something different. Something that made his heart stop, the Digital hazard sign was now emblazoned upon the sinister card face right were the Digimon logo had been.

Takato realized something was definitely not right. This fact was affirmed when the light began to burn its way into his skin. Small tendrils had begun to emerge from the digivice. Some moved up his arm, some waved in the air, and a few began to worm their way into his skin. The first tentacle of energy was burning its way into his shoulder. The light continued to grow brighter and the burning grew more painful. The tentacles of light began to worm there way trough is body. Much like waves that surfaced for a bit before descending back into his skin, it was incredibly painful. The largest of the light-worms began a journey through his neck. It looped around his left eye, circled around the outside of his head and plunged itself into Takato's back.

All the while the tamer couldn't move or scream or do anything. The card glittered like it was laughing at him, then for a second the patterns shifted. The light felt different, not cruel or invading but warm. It was still painful as hell, but it felt more like it cared for him, like it was giving something to Takato. What it was giving him was a mystery and truthful he would have liked to refuse it. Takato felt his conscience slipping away as the light-worms grew more and more numerous. The feeling that kept him standing released him and Takato collapse on to the floor.

For a second his eyes remained open as he fell, but as his knees hit the ground the rest of his body fell forward. The side of his brilliantly light up head impacted the side of his desk. Takato lost consciousness. The light continued its work for a while before it pulled itself back inside Takato's red ringed d-arc. Takato was left without a scare or any reminder of this fairly traumatic experience except a nice lump on his head. At least now his sleep would be undisturbed. Well mostly undisturbed, half way through the night Takato's digivice activated again, this time without the lightshow.

What woke Takato wasn't the fact that he was floating in what appeared to be really bad oatmeal, nor was it the fact that there were blobs of what appeared to be oatmeal floating around him, it wasn't even the voices coming from the oatmeal-ish lumps. No what woke Takato was a trademarked Mori Asaji Headache. In fact this headache kept him from noticing the oatmeal landscape up until he was hit in the head by one of the talking lumps of oatmeal. Even then his moaning about his headache took more precedence than wondering where he was.

In fact the sheer force of the headache was enough to make Takato wonder if this was a dream at all. You weren't supposed to get hurt in dreams but this definitely hurt. So either he had been killed by the insane light-worm thinks and he was going to be stuck in a bowl of oatmeal for the rest of eternity or the world as he knew it has stopped existing. At the moment Takato was hoping for the latter, at least that way there might be a heaven to go to after he died in this new oatmeal world order.

Finally the headache began to subside, or the voices coming from the globules of oatmeal began to overpower the skull-splitting pain. The odd thing was that he while he could pick out some of the voices as familiar some were totally foreign. He was sure a few of them were speaking some kind of other language, English maybe? The voices joked about things, screamed in distress, or conversed about random things. A few of the voices sounded comforting others sounded angry a few were strained with anguish.

A figure faded into existence several feet ahead of him. Behind Takato he felt another presence. The presences walked forward until they stood right next to Takato. They were both fairly humanoid, one had what looked like a pink stocking hat cresting its head. It's skin was gray and pasty. Wrapped around its feminine chest like a turban was a thick pink ribbon. The ragged end was flung over "her"shoulder like a scarf. Around her waist hung the waist of a pair of deep pink cargo pants, orange stripes weaving around the ankles like the patterns on a circuit board. The hands of this creature had two wide flat fingers and a thumb, over the palm was worn a orange glove with inlayed pink glitter. 'She' wore a playful grin on her face. The eyes were a deep hot pink, (Takato guessed that before he looked into them).

"Come on." She said playfully and grabbed Takato's hand. The oatmeal world fell away as she began to swing him around. As he spun he saw flashes of images. Some he liked, some he could have done without. He saw Guilmon, and he saw a flash of Jeri and Him eating somewhere. As he continued to spin he saw a girl he did not know running down a long hall in only her underwear, a lynxmon, a flash of Juggernaut, a picture of him and the digidestened from the show, a lacy card, a knife covered with blood. The images were random, some had him in them some didn't, some were happy, some were sad, a few were out right disturbing. Finally Takato felt himself slowing down.

The creature in pink set him down again in the oatmeal grey world. Takato was confused, what did all those images mean? The pink creature smiled and laughed, "Takato, these are things that can happen. Destiny, events effected by chance and choice. The things you saw could happen, it doesn't mean they will but… Hey, that's part of the fun in life. Right?" She prodded Takato with her elbow trying to get him to agree with her.

The other figure place a hand on Takato's shoulder and turned him around. This time the figure was tall and angular. He, as there was no doubt about his gender, was very pale. It seemed like he was all skin and bones. Veins of what appeared to be blood showed through the skin. Massive stalk-white hair leaped from his scalp and ended somewhere around his ankles. His fingers were long and bony and tapered to a point. The hand that wasn't holding on to Takato hung about at the same height as the hair. The legs attached to this figure were unnaturally long and the waist was positioned high on the body. Thin ribs were pressed into hard relief by the tight skin. From the hair sprouted the pointed tips of two ears. Four thin slits of eyes stared at Takato and bore threw him.

"Now Child, see what will happen." The creature pointed into the distance. When Takato turned to see what he was meant to see the world dropped away like last time. This time the images were clearer and more distinct. However with the enhanced clarity came and enhanced fear of what he saw. He saw himself facing a Digimon in some dark pit, him and guilmon laughing, wargrowlmon rising from the ruble of a building. The images continued; a person shooting him, his body in a morgue, Galantmon fighting what looked like daemon from the TV show. People he knew and many he didn't passed before his eyes, as did a fleeting image of him kissing someone. The final image was of Shinjuku warped and distorted and bathed in red light.

When the images faded the creature that had showed them leaned down and whispered in Takato's ear, "These are things that will happen, and you will see them all. We are the guardians of Fate and Destiny, we protect the chain that binds the universe together. You have been given a task to complete, and complete it you shall. Of this there is no doubt. Incarnate of the Fate Link of Power, this is who you are now."

Takato felt the pressure on his shoulder lift. He turn back to face the creature 'of what will happen'. The tall lanky creature held in his hand Takato's D-arc. It held out the small device for Takato to take. As Takato took it back the creature said, "Don't lose this, keep a hold of it as if it were your life. Some day it might."

He faded away into the dreamscape leaving Takato to wonder what that last bit of advice had meant. Suddenly the other figure was leaning over him. Her arms wrapped their way around his shoulders. Takato tensed up, not exactly sure how to interrupt this turn of events. She giggled softly, a cheeky dangerous giggle, "You're funny. Anyway, one last bit of advice now that old stuffy gone: You might want to avoid R-caught if you want to have any sanity after this. Or not. See you I a while." With that she to faded leaving Takato alone in the oatmeal universe.

"You know I think there is something wrong with me" Takato said to no one in particular. He figured eventually he would wake up and hopefully leave this crazy oatmeal universe behind him.

---------------

Takato let his head sink down again, today was not a good day for Takato Matsuki. First his sleep had been disturbed by dreams of two mysterious figures that seemed intent on confusing the hell out of him. When he could finally leave that insane dream he was going to be late to school. What breakfast he had managed to grab on the way out of the house had fallen in to a gutter on the side of the road, and now he was sitting hungry, late, sleep deprived, and board out of his skull listening the Ms. Asaji pace up and down the rows lecturing to them about English. He was scheduled to meet with Ms. Asaji after school and it was truthfully not something he was looking forward to.

Life at Akanichirin Shinjuku Jr. High was not exactly what he had expected. He was almost done with his third grade year and would be progressing on to first grade at whatever high school he chose or was accepted to. His High School choices were governed by his test scores and his grades. His test scores were determined by how well he studied, and at the moment he was dreading the thought of opening another book. Even listening to his teacher talk right now would be a stretch for him.

Almost without thinking Takato had taken out a piece on paper and his pencil was now gliding effortlessly over the white surface, some fragment of his troubled mind would soon become manifest on this paper. The farther the picture progressed the farther from the class his mind drifted. The picture was almost half completed when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. Takato ignored whoever it was, hoping they would leave him alone. The intrusion continued as a hand was placed on his shoulder. Annoyed Takato glanced up to find his teacher glaring down at him. "Takato I really hope that gets you somewhere. Otherwise…"

She left off like she had just remembered something, "Takato, can you bring that with you when you meet with me after school?" Takato agreed, not like he had much choice. Ms. Asaji when back to the front of the class room and began to lecture. Takato tried to pay attention to the lesson but the marital was to dull to give any bother to, why should he care about whatever battle was taking place in somewhere at some time. His attention turned back to the drawing he became content and oblivious to the outside world.

___

As Takato waited for Ms. Asaji in room 3-A his thoughts turned again to Guilmon and all the other Digimon that had been pulled back into the digital world. The digital world was a far from comfortable place. Survival was a daily battle if not four or five. He wondered if they were alright down there. Even with Calumon there to help them (and them to keep Calumon safe) life would be hard. Calumon was probably chasing some digital cream puff right now, and Guilmon was probably right behind him. Terriermon would be sever steps behind and the rest would be watching them from a distance.

Takato wished he could go back there and bring them back. He wished he could laugh with Guimon again, heck even watching Renamon appear from were ever it was she disappeared to would be nice. Even Impmon with his tough and crunchy outside and soft and sweet inside would be nice right now. _Sounds like a snack. Darnit now I'm hungry"_

While Takato thought these fantastic thoughts that had often been thought before Mrs. Asaji looked in upon him from the door way. She gathered up her courage and entered. "Takato, what are you going to do with your life."

"I don't know, I suppose work at the bakery." Takato sighed, life, however it happened always seemed to come back to that fact. Mrs. Asaji stared him down for a second before placing a pile of papers down on one of the desks. Putting her hand to her forehead she sighed, "Takato, you don't have to work there if you don't want to. You, of all people, could do anything you want to do. A couple years ago I had a kid who wanted to be a 'Digidesten' even though it would break the every one of the laws of physics to get there. Yet somehow you did it. So, Takato, what do you want to _DO_ with your life."

Takato shrugged, " Don't know, I guess I never really thought about it to much." Ms. Asaji sighed again. She held out her hand, "Takato would you give me that drawing you were working on today?"

The dreamer blinked. But he rummaged around in his pack anyway. When he handed her the drawing – one of Takato, Calumon, and Guilmon playing at the park—she looked at it and smiled. She remained silent as she shifted through the papers. Ms. Asaji would occasionally remove a paper, look at it and then put it back. When she had three papers that she approved of she laid them out on the front desk and called Takato up. All three papers were pictures of people. One was drawn with charcoal. It was of a girl looking sadly out of a window. Takato glanced at the next one, a pencil drawing of three people at a dinner party. Both of the pictures were really good.

Takato looked up at his teacher questioning what she wanted. Ms. Asaji smiled and picked up the one of the girl. "This one is of my niece. Her mother died a month before I drew this. She was my sister and when I saw her daughter looking out like that I knew exactly how she felt. When I was working on this I think I was drawing myself, however. I draw because it helps me explain what I'm feeling then, it's like if I can't say it I draw it. Plus it doesn't give me a head ache. Takato, why do you draw?"

Takato thought about it. Why did he draw? Finally he shrugged, "I don't know. I just seem to be drawing all the time, it's like I can't stop."

Ms. Asaji nodded and picked up Takato's own drawing. She looked at it, then at Takato, then back at the drawing, "Takato, what do you dream about?"

Takato blinked again, _What's with all the weird questions?_ He thought back for a second to last night's dreams. He was reminded of dark and evil nightmares, near death scenarios, and the D-Reaper. Quickly he skipped on to the night before that, he'd had enough nightmares during the night. The night before was just as gruesome. Takato came to a conclusion that he did not like, "I can only remember the nightmares."

Ms. Asaji nodded and put down the paper with the others, "Takato, I think you dream on paper. You daydreamed all the times, now you have drawn everyday for the past year. These papers are your dreams. Dreams are the extension of your soul. A dream is a wish your heart makes. Have you ever thrown away one of your drawings?" Takato shook his head; his room was a massive fire hazard. He had never, never, thrown away a picture, they did seem to be a part of himself.

The door slid open reveling a man in a heavy black suit. He held himself like he was someone slightly out of place in this hall of learning. The man immediately straightened up when he saw Takato's teacher. He walked into the room more sure of himself then when he entered, "Ah, Ms. Asaji is this the student you spoke of?"

"Yes, Takato meet Mr. Tachikawa, he is an art critic. I asked him here to see if he could help you with your decision." Ms. Asaji gestured to the paper that lay on the table with her own pictures. Takato swallowed, it was unusual for a teacher to do this for a student, but he was grateful. Maybe this would give him the courage to tell his parents about the test. His teacher had handed his picture, along with another pile of papers, to the man. As the second pile of papers passed across Takato's view he saw that they were pictures his teachers had confiscated throughout the year. He had always thought that they had thrown away his paper dreams.

Ms. Asaji saw the question before he asked it, "Takato your photos have been floating around the teacher's room. A lot of teachers have a favorite picture hanging in their house. It's funny really."

"Riiiight." Takato really didn't know what to say to that. Were his pictures really that good? Did teachers really keep them? Was Mrs. Asaji going crazy due to Aspirin withdrawal? Takato watched as the man flipped through them, spending longer on some than others. Takato found himself holding his breath, he emended himself to breath and continued to wait. Occasionally Mr. Tachikawa would rearrange the pictures but he was careful to keep them crisp and safe.

After a long while Tachikawa removed three of his pictures and laid them on the desk. Pointing at one he started, "This one has good…"

___

Henry was waiting as Takato left the school. The dreamer smiled when he saw his friend, "Thanks for staying"

"Sure, no problem. How'd it go?"

"Meh, could have been worse. She brought in an art critic and he —Henry what are you doing?" Henry had started to poke Takato on the shoulder. When confronted the blue haired boy looked up and laughed, "Just checking to make sure you were still alive. I wouldn't want some art critic tearing you up before some digimon does."

"Actually I might prefer that, less blood." For a while they walked in silence. Takato thought about what Mrs. Asaji had said about dreaming on paper. Last's night's dream came back to him. "Hey, Henry."

"Hnnn?"

"What's R-caught?"

Henry stumbled coughing and wheezing. As he regained his breath Henry stood up again and looked at Takato.

"You OK?"

"Fine, It's just where did you hear about R-caught?"

Takato shrugged, "I don't know. Why?" Henry eyed Takato, Takato stated back at Henry. After a moment Henry shrugged putting off whatever was on his mind."

"R-caught is one of the mushy teen romance novels put up on the internet. The only difference is that R-caught if popular, really popular. I'm kinda surprised you haven't heard of it yet." Takato nodded slowly, but Henry continued, "And its main characters are named Takato and Rika."

It was Takato's turn to trip from surprise, "What! I'm part of some gushy romance novel with Rika!?" Grimacing Henry nodded. Now Takato really wished he hadn't asked. Henry put around Takato's shoulder and leaned in.

"Thankfully it's not something Rika would read, so I'm pretty sure you're safe."

_That's a releaf._ Takato sighed, his butt was safe for now, until he did something stupid. Laughing Takato looked up at the sky, "You know, I'd kinda like to know what it says. I might read it sometime."

"Just don't let Rika hear that."

"Don't let me hear what?" Henry and Takato came to a complete and abrupt halt. There was no way, out of 30 million people in Tokyo, the chances of that one person being there at the exact same time were near impossible. But when the boys turned around sure enough there stood a red head walking round the corner. Rika, the Digimon Queen, walked to ward them looking friendly, for now.

Henry put his hand on Takato's shoulder, "I got lessons see ya!" Takato turned around to grab Henry. He wanted to keep him close so that if Rika had heard there would at least be someone to carry out his last will and testament. But Henry dodged Takato, he swung around a corner just as Rika reached level with Takato. "Where he's going?"

"Leaving me to die without a proper witness."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Takato's back went ramrod straight. Rika glanced over at Takato, who was make a point of it not to look at her. This could only mean one thing, "Takato, you hiding something."

"What, no I'm not! Why would I be hiding anything? I wou—"

"Takato, your babbleing. Wait…" Rika faded off thinking about something. Takato swallowed hard, hoping he wasn't about to die. "You not planning a birthday party are you?"

"No! Wait, isn't your birthday is April, it's June."

Rika smiled, "Yeah, I guess it is." Takato calmed down, realizing that she was just teasing him. They had been friends for almost 3 years now, but lately she hadn't seen Takato. They went to different schools and their routs home didn't intersect. In fact the only reason that she was on this side of the Nishi Shinjuku high-rise district was for a little free time with her mom, which meant shopping. As if on cue Rika heard her name from somewhere behind her, now it was her turn to cringe.

Walking briskly up the street Rika's mother had spotted them. Dressed smart and ready to shop her face lit up when she saw Takato with Rika. The look on her face reminded Takato of the conversation that had just been cut off. Apparently Rika saw it as well. Blushing angrily she waited for her mother to catch up to her. Running appeared out of the question now that Rika had been caught in her mother's anaconda like shopping frenzy. Takato felt for Rika, he really did. His mother made a fuss over his cloths, even if only wore his blue hoody—which was now getting a little too small. Rika had a model for a mom so Takato's discomfort would look microscopic to the fussing and posing that she would have to suffer through. While Takato could feel sorry for Takato he truly had no idea what it was like.

Rika waited until her mother had drawn even with them and then moved on walking briskly up the street. Rumiko sighed as she watched her feircly independent daughter walk away. Shaking her head she murmured regrets that she could have a "girly girl." Remembering Takato, who was fidgeting awkwardly next to her, an idea began to form. She looked Takato over, a blue hoodie that was growing to small, khaki shorts, goggles, yellow sweat band; he could have been wear the exact same cloths as when she first met him. Her "little fashion conscious conscious" as she called her infallible sense was practical screaming two words, "_Make over."_

"Takato, do you have to be anywhere this afternoon?" Takato jumped in surprise. The odd question stopped Rika just before she passed out of ear shot. Takato shook his head, once again confused. Today seemed to be full of confusing elements; enigmatic dreams, art critics, a model with a hungry stare. _Better just to go along with it. _Rumiko nodded and looked him over again, "Takato would you like to come with us?"

"What?"

"What!?" Rika spun on her heal and looked back at her mother like she was insane, "Are you insane? It's bad enough that you force me to do this, but Takato hasn't done anything to deserve this torture."

He mother waved her off, "Relax Rika, it will be fun. I hardly ever get the chance to talk to any of you friend. Plus I'll make it worth his while." Takato looked at the shocked Rika and back at her mother. He wanted to just slink away now. It would be better if he stayed away from the whole event entirely, but something in the cement had liquefied and re-solidified underneath his feet. Confusion and fear had rooted him here. Rika's mother continued, "So Takato, what do you say?"

"Ummmm…" Takato hesitated, both stared at him waiting for his response. Rika looked afraid, why should she be afraid? _ Why is that relevant at all to this mess I'm in? _"Sure."

Takato immediately regretted his choose. If looks could kill and death glares were real the look Rika gave Takato would have had him shot, chopped into small pieces with a rusty ax, put through a wood chipper, paved over and then subjected to nuclear annihilation. The sheer force of the furry in Rika's violate orbs caused Takato to flinch. Her mother was unaware of Rika's reaction. She grabbed Takato's arm and started pulling him down the street. When they passed Rika she fell into step beside Takato, not looking at him.

"What's going to happen to me?" Takato asked the red head fearfully.

Rika glanced over at the klutz then pulled her eyes back to the road. Dangerously calm she answered, "Do you mean before or after I get my hands on you?" A sly smile crept over Rika's face.

"Won't this be fun Rika?" Rumiko asked innocently. What her motive was in asking that Takato couldn't tell. Was she referring to the fact that Rika hated shopping, or perhaps her love of it? She curtain wasn't referring to the possible pain that might be inflicted upon Takato, was she? _Oh, god! She didn't plan this out did she? Does she have any idea what is going to happen to me!?_

"Yep!" A girlish giggle snapped Takato from his musing. Rika was smiling in a totally non-Rika fashion nodding profusely. Her mother paused for a second then continued. Now behind Rika Takato stared at her back. He came to conclusion that the world had gone nuts, completely and utterly nuts. Sighing Takato resigned himself to whatever gruesome fate had they had in store for him.

____

The first of the stores that he was brought to did not bode well, not well at all. Thanks to some massive twist in the favors of who ever chose the "in" style of fashion trendy had turned toward short skirts that made Takato feel self-conscious (and looking at the ground did not help at all) and other pieces of clothing that showed entirely too little. The first store they hit was on the Shinjuku side of Harajuku, the underground fashion capital of Japan. This store was just that underground, little known, and " 409.9" was their first stop.

There was no one else in the store, minus the clerk; who looked up at Takato and nodded at Takato and went back to whatever he was doing. Either Rumiko had no influence here, or had just been here so often that the clerk had learned to stand back and let her have her way.

"Here, Takato, would you mind holding this for a little bit." Rika's mother held up an outfit that had there been a body in it would have made Takato turn crimson. Rika hissed for him not to do it, but all Takato could eek out was a noncommittal, "Ummm."

The outfit along with several others started to pile up somehow in his hands. Takato could practical feel Rika staring daggers at him as her mother gave each out fit to Takato. Soon Takato realized why, Rumiko wasn't going to _buy_ them she was going to have Rika try them on. Takato realized now what he had gotten himself into. As a skirted outfit found its way on top Takato knew he was dead. Rika wouldn't let him live if he saw her in that. He was going to die, die in the most horribly gruesome manner Rika could think of.

Another piece of clothing was added to his care that most certainly did not look like it was for Rika. Takato strained his neck to see if the red head had run off yet. Instead, and to his dread, she was on the other side of "409.9" looking at some of "The most outrageous cloths for men" as a sign so nicely put it. First torture, then kill. Rumiko handed one last out fit to Takato, "I think that's enough," she said, "let's go see what they look like."

Slowly Takato walked toward the back of the store, toward the dressing rooms, toward his sure doom.

_____________

Onyx: And once again I don't have a DARK LORD BETA to sacrifice to...

Kazu: Is that a bad think?

Onyx: Yes, it means this thing in probably riddled with mistakes and other horrors.

Kazu: ahhh I see.

Onyx: I really need a dark lord beta.

Kazu: Okay........ Anyway with Onyx in the connor fearing for his life I'll do my job. Next time! Will Takato survive? Or will Rika kill him. Will we find out what was with the dream? Will Takato decide what to do for school? Will I ever find someone to asked these stupid questions for me?


	4. Link 4: Requests and Demands

"Hmmm, I don't know… Takato what do you think." Takato was contemplating finding a way to swallow his tongue when Rumiko asked. That wasn't to say he wasn't enjoying himself, his teenaged hormones were having a hay day. His modesty and mind were telling him he was going to die a most horrible death. They had been through several outfits already without that dreaded question. So as fate would have it Takato's opinion of the ripped backless tee would be required on the most reveling outfit in the pile.

Rika looked at Takato with a mixture of anticipation and threat. Takato squirmed under the pressure. The real trick here was not what to say but how to say it. He obviously had to say that he liked it (he did, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone) because if he didn't he was likely to be killed on the spot. However he couldn't be too enthusiastic, but he did have to be enthusiastic enough so it didn't look like a lie, but not so much so that it seemed fake. Takato swallowed the urge to flee and nodded, "I like it. It's ummm, nice."

Rika sighed heavily and turned away. Rumiko was still unconvinced, the pile was divided into two and Rika had to try on the group that passed muster. Rika was hummed and hawed over and over. Takato meanwhile was trying his best to sink into the chair. After about round 3 the revealing tee was dropped. Unfortunately as the pile got smaller Takato's opinion was requested more and more. Leading to a wonderful array of awkward positions; wacky, ripped, torn, stitched, and strapped. The outfits ranged from modest to "out there."

After about round 7 (including several trips back to the racks for this, that, and the other) Takato made a last chance ditch for safety. When his opinion was called out for a third time on yellow-black checked skirt and jacket pair he leapt his new idea, "You know, I think Rika would look good in anything."

And oh how it backfired on him: Rika blushed furiously and turned on her heals staring angrily at the far wall. Rumiko agreed whole heartedly, "So, true! That's why this is so hard. Takato do which do YOU like better, the blue skirt with the black half jacket, or these?" The model held up something Takato could even begin to identify. He was mentally smashing his head into a wall, hoping that he couldn't dig himself any farther into this hole. Finally a few, thankfully not insane, outfits were selected for purchase.

They were just about to head for the register when Rika kindly pointed out the pile of male cloths next to Takato, "Hey, mom! I think we forgot something." Rumiko practically squeeled as a girlish grin slipped over here face. "Oh, I'm sorry Takato. I almost forgot about you. Thank you Rika!"

"Yeah, thank you Rika." Takato mumbled under his breath, quietly so as not to be heard. But not quiet enough. Rika snapped at him, "What was that Takato?"

"Nothing!"

Rika was in fits of maniacal giggles when Takato came out of the dressing room the first time, Takato was blushing crimson. Curse Japanese fashion, and its eclectic progressive tastes, and while they're at it, curse plastic spiked collars too. Rika had every reason to laugh at the bumbling gogglehead wearing a fake dog collar, massive baggy red-plaid pants and a black coat with more zippers than seemed physically possible. Rika's choices went from bad to worse.

Rika must have enjoyed watching Takato stubble through his session of dress up as much as he had dreaded sitting through hers. Translucent shirts, super tight pants, massive puffy shirts, everything Takato had figured he would never be caught dead wearing was there. And a cape, which he actually had fun with. Rumiko quickly rejected everything and pulled Takato back to the shelves to look for something "more his style." Takato was little help deciding what exactly that was, he had never even considered himself having a style. He could quickly knock out things that weren't, but Rumiko seemed to do it faster.

Takato, fairly sure that he would be mentally scared for the rest of his probably short life, was surprised when Rika offered another suggestion. Rumiko when through another girlish fit about her girl having "a sense of style." This elicited a trademarked Rika death glare. Takato was confused when he was given the set of cloths and sent back into the changing room. There weren't any spikes or tears on this outfit, and Takato couldn't figure out what form of torture that Rika had in mind for this one. Even more strangely it seemed to fit his "style." Apparently, yes, he had one.

He looked in the mirror as he showed the model and her daughter. The shirt was about the same color of his old hoodie, but the jacket was significantly darker blue. Over his left shoulder a ripple of white blue graced the deeper ocean color. And the pants seemed to fit well. Heck, there were even some new dark blue goggles to finish everything off. Since when had goggles even come in to stile, Takato wondered if actually he might have had something to do with that. A scary thought, that he had influenced fashion while almost dying. Rumiko gave it her approval, while Rika smiled smugly. Takato liked it, but more he liked the fact that they were leaving.

While they were waiting at the register, wearing their purchased close, Rumiko started planning the next store to which they would venture. Takato's eyes grew wide with dread. Mercifully Rika was dreading it just as much. As the clerk talked with the model, asking about her secret to her young looks Rika pulled Takato toward the door. "What are you doing Rika?" Takato whispered fearful that he was going to die.

"Getting us out of here." She hissed back. They slipped around the corner before Rumiko noticed. But not before the clerk did, she smiled knowingly but didn't say anything. Once out of earshot of the model they began to run. They made is out of the underground fashion compound quickly. He was free! …And out of shape. Takato stood doubled over panting about a block north of the entrance to the underground mall. Rika stood leaning up against a telephone poll glaring at Takato. After a second she rolled her eyes and looked away.

Finally Takato caught his breath and looked around trying to get his bearings. They were standing in one of the residential streets, on either side of them stood two small apartment buildings. Rika was tapping her foot looking out around the corner, watching a few pedestrians walk past. Truthfully Takato had no idea where he was. Maybe Rika did.

"Hey Rika, do you know where we are?" Rika shrugged as a young couple walked by. She watch them go then glanced back at Takato, "Kinda, Why?"

Takato shook his head, they were lost somewhere between Shinjuku and Harajuku, just great. He walked over to look out on the busier street with Rika. It was one of the streets that people bikes and cars all shared and somehow seemed to fit. Convenient stores and restaurants crowded the lower levels while book stores, apartments, and other shops were accessed by stares up. The street was bustling with people walking around running afternoon shopping. From a block or two down Takato could hear the bells of a train crossing going down. All together a street not unlike the one he lived on.

"Hey, Takato," Rika started, "You remember back there at the store?"

"Yeah" Takato replied. He glanced over a Rika trying to figure out where she was going with this. Takato was never good a reading body language so that didn't help much. She was staring straight ahead, not really seeing the street. She glanced over at Him briefly then looked up at the coffee shop behind him.

"Remember when you said that you thought I would look good in just about anything?" Takato tensed, he knew that would come back to haunt him, he just knew it. Rika was still looking ahead at the street watching a man walk up the small set of stairs across from them to a used bookstore. Takato's hair stood on his end but even with the urge to run away from the possibly violent girl he stood still any way. "Yeah."

"Did you really mean it?"

Takato was taken aback by the question, it was not what he had excepted. However he had been sincere when he said it, not that it meant anything he told himself. Rika turned to look at him waiting for an answer. "Yeah, sure….." The pause that continued was awkward to say the least. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

Rika laughed, actually laughed! "No just severely maimed. And hey, you know Takato, I'm in a good mood so I'll give you a 10 second head start."

Takato thought it was a joke, hope it was at least. The necessity to read people better flashed through his mind, but he perhaps unwisely just stood there. Rika raised an eyebrow, "eight." Now Takato got it, it was a joke, but that didn't mean the ten second head start was. As he started to run down the residential street he briefly noted that he was running around in a part of town he did not know and was probably going to get more lost. This was drowned out by the sound of shoes slapping on the pavement behind him. Rika was now in pursuit.

One of the benefits of playing tag with a bunch of Digimon was that Takato had learned to dodge. He still wasn't the best runner, but at least he was agile, maybe. His first idea was the skinny ally that lead behind the apartment buildings. It was filled with nooks and crannies that might hid him, or at least slow Rika down. Like most planes it worked marginally. The ally was slick with recent rains, a common thing in Japan, and the puddles were fairly deep. However Takato slipped just as many, if not more than, Rika.

Another problem with this plan was that after a while the buildings framing the narrow path turned into restaurants and stores. Crates and boxes made going a little bit more difficult. Takato and Rika vaulted over and weaved around the crates and the owner of one of the restaurants. Takato reached the end of the back ally and turned into the busy street. Quickly he felt like a salmon traveling up stream, the tide of people was pushing against him making the going kid of slow. Dodging around people Takato managed to put some distance between them he thought, however while he anxiously waited for a cross walk he saw her.

Rika was stepping off a bus on the other side of the street and she spotted the gogleheaded boy quickly. Takato turned casually and started to walk up the busy street. He was starting to recognize where he was. They walked, nearly in sink, on opposite sides of the 6 lane super causeway. Casually Takato walked past the Square-Enix Store while Rika calmly walked past a FamilyMart.

When Takato saw the fist vestiges of green from the Shinjuku-Chuo Park he realized that Rika wasn't on the other side of the street. He could find her! Franticly he looked behind him to make sure that Rika wasn't behind him. Distracted he ran right into a telephone pole. Rubbing the sore spot on the side of his head he heard someone giggling nearby. Suddenly there she was there, leaning up against the offending pole. Takato leapt back, "How'd you do that?"

"Do What?"

"You were-- Then-- I—"

"You might want to run."

"Aaaa, right." Once He made it to the park Takato started to sprint. Rika somehow fell behind and Takato felt free, he had never run this fast before. He flew across the ground. A brilliant feeling filled him, Takato felt for a second like he could do anything. It was like a daydream come to life. Bounding over a park bench, startling the home-less man who was sitting there, Takato fantasized that he could fly. The sky seemed to open itself to him, and the world was in his reach.

The art of flying is not that of aiming for the sky, but rather missing the ground. No matter how poor a shot Takato was, he somehow failed at this feat. The ground was quick to snatch Takato back from the sky. He tumbled back to earth and down the man-made embankment. He landed on a concrete slap several feet below. As Takato was picking himself up Rika pulled to a stop above him. Breathing heavily she managed, "How—You—Ran—Whoo!"

Then they laughed.

As they passed by the steep set of stares going up to the "hideout" life was simple for the two friends. The worst was behind them and the world was beginning to repair itself. Their lives were once again just drops in the ocean of time and it felt good to be normal. In his bliss Takato didn't notice that his D-power sprung to life when he glanced at the forgotten tool shead. And as he walked away from the towers of Nishi-Shinjuku his only thoughts were about himself. Only the memories of his adventure remained.

-----

Bliss was harder to come by in the dark catacombs below Tocho. Sleep had been harder still. For nearly 24 hours the lives of all associated with the program called Hypnos had been insufferable. The international digital network nodes located in Tokyo had been swamped with massive amounts of power. The servers were quite literally exploding around the metropolis. And there was no explanation for it.

Taki Asaji, Hypnos' newest recruit and largest consumer of coffee, was hard at work analyzing the abnormal data flux looking for any reason the network decided to Tokyo. Decide might not be the best word to describe the workings of the digital cloud, but sometimes it certainly felt like the internet had a mind of its own. Still unable to work the massive elevated terminals that Riley and Tally were assigned to Taki was assigned to the lower terminals.

Taki pulled up a sciatic of the Tokyo phone networks. The phone companies, still the major provider of internet in the Tokyo area, were taking the brunt of the data, but some of the wireless networks were strained too. The advantage with wires was that you could monitor them.

"The data anomaly has shifted away from the nishi-Shinjuku high-rise district, moving toward northwest side of Shinjuku."

"Taki, what do you have?" The blond director of Hypnos stood looking over his shoulder. Taki shook his head, "I caught a power-spike about an hour ago in the area around the Shinjuku-Chou park, but nothing afterward. Okay not nothing, but nothing that deviates from what we've seen so far."

"How'd the power-spike accrue? More data?"

"No, it just looks like a power surge in the area. Wireless networks were fired for a couple seconds, just a bunch of static," Taki paused to take a sip of coffee, his fifth cup since lunch. The programmer whipped the bottom of the much and continued, "As far as I can tell it looks similar to a Digimon moving through the net. But…"

Riley took over from there, reporting from her perch in the Hypnos dome, "The Digital wall hasn't responded, nothing on scanners, no activities. No this originated from this side." Yamaki was less than pleased to her this. Growling he barked out orders from them to find out what was causing the anomaly. Taki was saddened to find his cup empty when he took another sip. Taking a fast break, but making sure that Yamaki didn't see him, Taki stood to refill his cup.

Above Tally noticed the young programmer return with another cup filled with coffee. "That's his six cup."

"What?" Riley looked up from whatever she was engrossed in and looked over at Tally.

"Taki, the amount of coffee he drinks."

"Oh, Yeah."

"How much do you think he's had so far?"

Riley glanced down at the boy. Shrugging she turned back to her keyboard, "I don't know maybe 2 or 3 liters." Riley glanced back over the figures again, but came to the same conclusion she had about Taki: it was too hard to understand to be worth it. It just appeared to random data, not very much of it even made sense. It seemed like all the junk of the net, the broken and lost data packets, had been pulled by a magnet to Tokyo. Most anything that made sense was fragmented and incomplete.

Hours went by for Hypnos like this, sifting through crap and getting nowhere. Yamaki was determined to get this thing but it was looking less and less hopeful. The cloud of useless data seemed to settle down for the night in the northwest side of Shinjuku, but that was little help. Beyond manipulation and hacking Hypnos has very little influence. They couldn't call up the military, the police, or even a special agent or two to search the area. They had to be content to trying to find the reason with what they had.

Riley's clock showed just after midnight when things started to get interesting. Interesting things so often happen to very uninteresting people. Usually these people are thrown from their lives and go on an amazing adventure. Maybe they get a girl or guy along the way, sometimes they acquire and odd sidekick, other times they are the odd side kick. Several of these very uninteresting people die along the way, a few managed to come back if they do die. But on the whole most uninteresting people managed to make it through to a happily ever after.

Well take this story and turn it around and around and around and you get Hypnos. The wholly uninteresting purpose in this case was a second rate technician, who's name Riley couldn't remember, the interesting event was a run in with Taki on his 14th coffee run and the instigator of the insanity (one of the most important thing in all stories) was the loud alarm that shook the quiet room.

"Data cloud is shifting. Mark 48117."

"Power levels in Shinjuku park area are spiking again." Taki was scrambling to get back to his post, the poor technician seemed to have been frozen by some awesome force. Unfortunately he also happened to be in Yamaki's way when he came barreling up the stairs, "What's going on?"

"The cloud has just moved in to position around Shinjuku park, power surges have been recorded in the same area."

"The data density has increases tenfold sir."

"Servers are being strained to the breaking point, I'm counting three that have given way already."

Yamaki looked furious, barking up to the operators he asked them if they had any idea what the digital cloud was trying to do. But before he could finish another alarm cut him off.

"Digital wall is being attack, sir. Looks like it's the data cloud." Yamaki swore loudly, "What is it doing."

The newest member of Hypnos was quick to answer, "Data cloud appears to be bombarding the wall. That's odd. It looks like it's trying to form a vortex." Riley pulled up the visual that Taki was looking at on the dome. He was right, the cloud had taken a familiar shape around the Shinjuku park area. The vortex looked to familiar for Riley's liking. Or apparently Yamaki's, he stared at it intently the furry in his eyes could have melted lead. "Taki, let's hope you're as good as they say you are."

"Yeah, boss!"

"I want that stopped NOW!" With the order any one that wasn't already furiously attacking their keyboards had started. The technician` that had already been through so much that night managed to stand back up. Just to be fixed with another evil eye. "Well," Yamaki growled, "If you're not going to help, get me some coffee."

"Hey, get me some to while you're at it!"

"Taki!"

"Right boss!"

Hours passed after a while the cloud seemed to dissipate. Still large amounts of discarded and corrupted data circled the cables and air around Shinjuku park. Damage was minimal, compared to the catastrophes of the Digimon, no doubt that someone would link the failures of several large dollar server banks to Hypnos. But media detail would be simple, a crack pot virus would be an easy cover up. Yamaki finally allowed Riley a break at 7;30. However she would be back in an hour or two with, but that still gave her enough time to get something to eat.

And maybe she would bring back some bagels for the people not so fortunate to be let out.

----


	5. Link 5: Rhetorical

Blasted digital world, it just didn't know when to quit did it. A year of calm, a year break and now it had come back with something new and even more annoying than the "wild ones." Power searches all over the city were messing with everyone. From making the trains off schedule to literally blowing up a server in the west Asakusa district. Whatever it was it was most certainly from the other side. The massive dome structure displayed the Data Phage, as it had been called, and its path along the networks of Tokyo.

"Hey, boss, I think I got something here!" Taki Asaji, the newest programmer for Hypnos was handling the his first crises situation well. He was thankfully a hard worker and mostly staid out of Yamaki's was, unless he was on his way to the coffee station. The director of Hypnos wondered if it might just be easier to but a barrel of coffee next to the man to keep him supplied for more than an hour. But at least he seemed to be making progress.

"What is it?" Yamaki asked the programmer across the room.

"I think I found why the Data Phage is taking up so much power!"

"Put it on the dome."A box appeared on the dome showing line after line of code next to a graphic of the power flow through west Shinjuku.

"It's not much but the Data Phage seems to be siphoning of some of its energy by using a specialty sub-routen in the power breakers along Shinjyuku park. I don't know how its managing to keep the transformers from bursting but it;'s actually moving the power that it takes through the internet into the area. Them it bombards the Digital Plane with the spare energy."

"What does that do for it though?"

For this Tally above had a plausible answer, "A massive power serge might be able to weaken the digital wall and momentarily make the rejection programs unusable. But I don't think it would be enough time for a bio-emergance start to finish. We're not reading any digimon even anywhere close to the digital wall so that doesn't seem likely."

This conversation was interrupted by Riley announcing serge, this one located in the south west Shibuya neighborhood. The surges seemed totally random they would hit small neighborhoods on the west side of Tokyo and the largest shopping districts in down town Shibuya. The long empty lighter in his hand began to snap open, old habits die hard. The lighter was a reminder of his life before Hypnos, before he had a mission in life.

The director of Hypnos stared at the graphic depicting the power flow through cables and telephone wires to Shinjuku park, his own back yard. The digimon seemed to love that place, it was like a weak spot in the worlds. A weak spot he might have help create.

Letting the Data Phage run its course seemed like the only thing they could do right now. Each time they managed to isolate it the coding it changed. No programmer on earth could be that fast to completely rewrite a program so quickly, leaving only the digital world as the entity's point of origin. How it had managed to get past all the layers of protection they had written, how it managed to elude all the tracers they sent, how in managed to elude him baffled Yamaki. He wanted it dead.

Leaning over the railing the director of Hypno watched his little bee hive scramble over them selves trying to get a step ahead of the Data Phage. People in lab coats running print outs back and forth around the level below. Taki seemed oblivious to all the scatter and noise all around him. Furriously typing at something on the screen in front of him the only time he took his hands off they keys was to lift his large (amazingly large) coffee mug to his lips, the other had working double time to cover for the busy hand.

Above Yamaki another pair of eyes was watching the new recruit. Tally glanced down at the young man take yet another large swallow of the bitter liquid. While officially she was to be watching the Data Phage and its progress throughout the information networks of Tokyo she added Taki to the list of things she was to watch. "He's got to go sometime, right?"

"What?" Riley, her partner looked at her confused. The question seeming to have come out of nowhere gave no context what so ever.

"Taki, he's had 6 leters of coffee, I've counted. And when he goes to get refills it takes him the minimum time to walk down to the pot, fill up, and get back. He hasn't gone to the restroom all day."

"I'm sure your reading too much into this. He's just human, so why don't you pay attention to your job."

"I'm not, he's seriously weird!" Tally whispered back, adding a shiver to emphasize her point. Reilly sighed and turned back to her work blowing off her excitable coworker's misgivings about Taki. Riley herself had never actually paid that much attention to the new guy. He just kind of seemed to blend in with the back ground as he worked. The only time that she actually notice the him was the few times that they met to get coffee.

While Hypnos worked around the clock most of the rest of Tokyo slept. The city seemed darker this night as blocks flickered on and off. The digital phage moved about the city stealing energy from around the homes and shops and sky scrapers. In a small bakery the lights just flicked on and the people inside began their morning routine. In a second floor room a boy slept, dreaming of his best friend that had left him. Ironically this young boy had would play a bigger part in the events to come than he realized, nor did he realize that as the sun rose that despite the 12 different alarm clocks that he had set he would still be late for school

--

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" Takato opened his eyes to a symphony of tones and rings. His room was practically shaking with the force of the noise. Screaching and whaling the clocks all read the same time 7:44. For a second Takato stared at the clocks uncomprehending the gravity of the time. The incleings of reality began to slip through the fog of sleep. A full 60 seconds passed before the synapses in his brain fired of the correct sequence to alert him of the amazingly familiar sentiment, "I'M LATE!"

Takato bounded from his bed, quite forgetting the overhanging shelf, only to find himself back in his bed swearing in pain. After taking the time to reorient himself, and express the proper sentiments for hitting his head against a very solid shelf he was up and running.

Digging cloths out of a large pile of drawings that had avalanched over night, if they were really clean he couldn't tell in the allotted time, he threw them on and headed for the bath room. The get-to-school-on-time-athalon had begun. Having tripped up at the start of this race with the hit to the head Takato was struggling to catch up with the time. Scoring a new record in time, but probably failing on hygiene, Takato had blown through teeth brushing in record time.

Next came the obstacle course known as the bakery down stairs. This events goals were simple, weave in and own of parents carting large metal containers filled with bread in all stages, retrieve the day's boxed lunch that had been place on the counter of the kitchen and leave by the back door. Jumping of the staring block (know to the rest of the world as stars) Takato was off to a good start. Approaching the time that he had lost he snagged the Lunch and darted around his father. And, No! Blocking his way was Mrs. Matsuki holding a large pan of fresh roles stood between him and the door. No space to skirt around, too dangerous to go under, leaving only one insane, purely insane path: over.

Throwing caution, common sense, and possibly physics to the wind Takato vaulted. Flight, not having come to a pleasant end last time around, only occurred to Takato as a bad idea after the ground fell away below him. Mrs. Matsuki nearly dropped the pan of bread as her son flew over her. The arch, seemingly humanly impossible, pulled him over the pan of steaming bread and dropped him down just beyond. Setting a new world record the crimson eyed dreamer slipped on his shoes and burst out of the bakery leaving a stunned mother behind him.

Well on his way to a gold medal in the get-to-school-on-time-athalon Takato moved on to the event in this marathon: Street weaving. This event focused around a long distance sprint down a crowded street, through Shinjuku part, and another series of dangerous and densely populated urban corridors. All in all this was probably the most boring stretch so conversely it took the most mental prowess, concentrating on the urgency of his mission.

This first leg of the race was fairly safe, in that most of the people here were used to the mad dashes down the street. Takato had briefly imagined going out for the track and field club with all the practice he had for running. If he ever managed to make it on time for the a whole month Mrs. Asaji swore the world would end. Spinning around a suited man crossing the street Takato nearly tripped. Still running several blocks from his house was where Takato normally petered out, but he was still running strong. The idea the his stamina, not great to begin with, had suddenly become world class didn't even occur to him. His focus was, for the moment, solely on getting to school on time. Dispite having possibly ignored the laws of physics (that class was next year and to Takato those laws seemed more like guide lines after his adventures in the digital world) previously that day getting to his destination seemed impossible.

Shooting through the cross walk toward the park Takato began to thought of the memories this park held. All the days he was late to school because he was playing here with a large red dinosaur, a green dog-rabbit, and an insane fairy came back. With all those happy memories came the last one he had of Guilmon. Gigimon floating off into the gate asking his when they would play again. He wanted to stay and live in those memories for a little longer, but that broken promise hung in the air. It filled the air like a fog tearing at his heart with small razors of guilt. That memory scarred him away, faster he ran from through the trees and grass. Running Takato left behind all those memories and added to their number a tear on the pavement.

Had Takato been inside a darkened dome displaying the information networks of the world he would have learned that at that moment a digital entity roaming around the Tokyo area servers know as the Data Phage would send a massive power spike to the city of Chiba knocking out the majority of power in that side of the Tokyo Metropolitan area. Had he been in that room he also would have learned several colorful words in several different languages. By the time Takato would get to school a super secret government organization would have concocted a fairly good cover story to distract from the digital aspect of the calamity. After pulling this actually probable story out of their asses the blond haired director would be sending several unnecessary and overworked personal home with much smaller asses to pull things out of.

Takato would remain blissfully unaware, and retain a much less colorful vocabulary, at his school for the day. Breathing heavily and he threw himself around another corner brining him closer to school. Checking the time on his D-arc which without a digimon to make it useful had become a nostalgic watch, and somehow, in seeming blatant disregard of the laws of Physics he was on time. "BRIIING!" or maybe not.

_________

Onyx: Daz right, I'm back!

Kazu: Took you long enough.

Onyx: You?

Kazu: Yew

Onyx: U

Kazu: EEEEEEEUUUUUU!

Onyx: Moving On, Kazu, do the honors!

Kazu: No.

Onyx: That's a command.

Kazu: Next time on Tamers: Reloaded! The true perpose of the Data Phage is reviled! Takato doesn't die. And I'm still not in the next chapter! What's Up with that?


End file.
